The Superiore Scrutineer and Baby Behemoth


With the world so topsy-turvy during the fragile ceasefire immediately after the Great War, it took a bold nation to make the first steps towards some sort of world stability. One of the few countries to retain its previous level of development was Britannia: ironically, by having suffered an earlier collapse of civilisation and being forced into recovery before war broke out.

As we all know by now, the success of the recovery was due to a few stoic individuals who were able to lead the country back to its fundamental principles, those that made Britannia “Great” once more. Government was overturned, unions abolished, afternoon tea became mandatory and reality TV banned.

And so it was that once again Britannia was able to look beyond its own borders to help those less fortunate than itself. The Ministry of Amelioration soon became established as a leading light in this field, bringing ruined countries back from the brink with its combination of strict but fair intervention, firm but just government, and local inhabitants’ terror of mutant giant babies.

Here we see Sir Thaddeus Braxton, Superiore Scrutineer, in familiar pose with his pipe, brown gabardine raincoat and case.

At ease aboard Baby Behemoth, he is pondering the solution to the problem of what to do with the mad king Sprungtopf – one of the thorniest problems to plague Britannia’s foreign policy for many years. Note the shackles worn by Baby during this visit. These were deemed necessary for several reasons: first, Baby’s natural curiosity would lead him to touch the King’s “subjects”, many of which were delicate and/or poisonous insects. Secondly, the sight of such strong restraints implied to the suggestible locals that Baby’s strength must indeed be prodigious, and had a usefully detrimental effect on their morale.

The history behind Baby Behemoth is currently subject to the Official Secrets Act. All that is known for sure is that DNA research had been confiscated from the warring nation of Gekke Vreemdeling, which had culminated in a generation of gigantic humanoids. Originally intended as a warrior super-race, the children were in fact loving, gentle and peaceful. The research was immediately terminated, but euthanasia was out of the question, so typical British eccentricity provided an alternative: Ministerial Transportation for Foreign Diplomats.

Once again, “the man from the ministry” rules supreme.

4 Responses to “The Superiore Scrutineer and Baby Behemoth”

  1. mouser said:

    this text has to be one of my favorite entries.. it is packed with wonderful imagery. really really really great. LOVE IT.

  2. admin said:

    Thank you. We tried your suggestion of going in a more positive direction. (Normal service will probably be resumed for next time.)

  3. Dr Smilax said:

    How many miles to the gallon do those giant babies get?

  4. admin said:

    Probably only a few steps before they stumble over or walk into something and bang their head.

    I imagine the noise level will be unbearable when they start crying – maybe this is avoided by engineering babies that don’t cry.